


so this is it, i sold my soul for this?

by notthebigspoon



Series: Stick 'Em Up [13]
Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-01
Updated: 2012-10-01
Packaged: 2017-11-15 11:02:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthebigspoon/pseuds/notthebigspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We're sorry for nailing you in the head and furthering your brain damage. Have a fruit since we could have made you a vegetable.”</p><p>Title taken from Some Nights by Fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	so this is it, i sold my soul for this?

“We're sorry for nailing you in the head and furthering your brain damage. Have a fruit since we could have made you a vegetable.” Ryan mumbles. He's unpacking the fruit basket the Padres had sent over. He arranges and rearranges the fruit, first alphabetically by type and then alphabetically by color. After each round, he glances at his girlfriend for approval, beaming when she nods.

He feels like shit. The only thing keeping him from tearing out his own hair is the pain killers and nausea meds they periodically push into his IV. Even with them, his head hurts and he's having to eat light. He eyes the selection of fruit in front of him and decides on an orange. He tries to peel it, growls in frustration when he can't make his hands work the way that he wants to. He holds it out to Jalynne, looking away and flushing when she takes it and start peeling it for him. He's not sure why he's embarrassed. It's far from the strangest thing she's had to do for him in the past several months. Maybe it's just the fact that it's something so simple.

Technically, it's not that bad. It's another concussion, what the doctors are calling mild, but nothing about it feels mild to Ryan. He's already suffered from brain damage and another concussion on top of the one he'd already sustained made the symptoms even more unpredictable. They don't know what's going to happen to him. Maybe that's the reason that, much to his own surprise, he hadn't screamed at this doctor. The guy had been honest and willing to say that he didn't know and there was no way of knowing. They just had to wait and see. Ryan doesn't like that they can't give him an answer but he can respect it. And they didn't use that 'the brain is mysterious and there's still much we don't understand' bullshit.

He wonders how Brandon is doing. Ryan hasn't spoken to him yet, was asleep when Brandon had called Jalynne and she's been tight lipped, making him deal with his own situation first and telling him that he can worry about Brandon later, after they've seen the doctors and gotten the test results. Ryan doesn't like how that sounds. It makes him nervous. Not that he worries Brandon is changing his mind in the face of difficulties, changing his mind about Ryan. Ryan's gotten over that. But he worries about Brandon's state of mind. He's never seen Brandon cry the way he was crying on Huff. Brandon doesn't cry, Brandon gets angry.

When Jalynne places the sectioned orange in front of them, he mumbles a thank you and returns his fruit army to the basket. He tries to put it aside himself, swearing when it makes him feel like a railroad spike is being driven through his head. Jalynne swats his hand and takes it, putting it on the side table. He glares at her and stares at his food. Jalynne smiles and leans over him, kissing him softly before sitting back down.

“My pregnant girlfriend should not be having to carry stuff for me.” He mutters, stuffing a piece of orange into his mouth.

“Well you can either let your pregnant girlfriend move that oh so heavy basket of fruit or you can do it yourself and cry like a little girl when it gives you a headache. I won't be pleased if you throw up all over it.” Jalynne answers, petting his hand before stealing an orange slice. “Your mom called me while I was getting something to drink. She's not flying out but she said to tell you she will if you don't call her already. You need to stop hiding from her. She's okay with this if you're happy, she said to tell you that.”

Ryan already knows. He knew that his mom would come around, be loving and accepting even if she wasn't entirely okay with the situation. That's just who she is, something Ryan has been grateful for since his first boyfriend when he was nineteen. The reality is that he's had a hard time facing any of his family since the fight. Shame, fear of being judged and mostly just not wanting to see their sympathetic faces and knowing they're pitying poor, pitiful, brain injured Ryan. He's gotten pretty good at avoiding them.

The only family he's seen since his parents visited have been his kids. He'd been wary of having them while staying with Jalynne and Brandon, not sure if it was too much too soon, but Brandon had flatly told him to stop being a dumb ass and get his kids on a damn plane already. The only downside was not being able to sleep with his boyfriend and girlfriend. Instead, he and Houston had slept on air mattresses on the floor of the guest room while Macey and Georgia took the bed. Other than that, the visits have gone beautifully. The kids love Jalynne and Brandon and vice versa. He figures that after all the shit that's been dumped on him in the past several months, someone somewhere had decided that it was time he have something go off without a hitch.

Ryan would say that all the thinking is giving him a headache but everything gives him a headache these days. He's grateful when the nurse comes with his meds. The painkillers hit him like a ton of bricks and he drowsily tells her that he loves her before apologizing to Jalynne. The last thing that he hears before he falls asleep is the two of them laughing.

When he wakes, Brandon is sitting next to his bed. Their fingers are laced together and Brandon has a defiant expression on his face. Ryan is actually a little ticked.

“The hell are you doing here? You've got a game today, dumbass! Bochy is going to slaughter you!”

“Bochy came with me. He took Jalynne out to get lunch. We drove down in a rental. Only staying a couple of hours. I think he came with me so he could drag me back in case I got any bright ideas.”

“I can't believe he let you come as all. You must have some really good dirt on him.”

Brandon shifts, looking at his lap with an uncomfortable expression. “I may have had a meltdown in my room this morning. Huff calmed me down and then he ratted me out to the skip before I could bolt. Bochy told me he'd come with me and I could have two hours.”

“He's a nice guy like that.”

“What have the doctors said?”

“That they don't know. This damage on top of the already existing damage, there's no way to know what's going to happen until it actually does happen.”

“And you? How do you feel? What feels different?” Brandon asks. He looks like he's afraid of the answer. Ryan's just as afraid of giving it.

“I don't feel right. Things that had passed are coming back. I don't know if it's temporary or not.” Ryan answers, chewing on his lip. “Couldn't make my hands work to peel an orange this morning. I knew what I wanted to do but I couldn't make it happen. I can do my personal business on my own, thank god. Other stuff, I'm not sure. Supposed to see more doctors this afternoon.”

“Baseball?”

“Won't know until I watch the game tonight.”

“Playing. Do you think you can play?”

“I wasn't sure before. I hoped. Maybe I'm just being negative because my head hurts but I'm really starting to think it might not happen.” Ryan mumbles, squeezing his eyes shot. The very thought is like a shot to the heart, every single time.

“Keep up with that attitude and I won't let you come back when you're cleared to.”

They both jump, Brandon yanking his hand back and Ryan yelping. Bochy had to have seen they were holding hands, no way he couldn't have, but he says nothing of it, just looks amused whereas Jalynne is giving Ryan a disapproving look. He has a feeling that he's going to get an earful later for his poor attitude.

The rest of the short visit is filled with rehashing every word the doctors have said. Bochy springs Ryan with random trivia questions that Ryan is pleasantly surprised he can correctly answer about 70% of the time.

The two hour mark comes too soon. Bochy says it's time to leave, firmly but not unkindly. He tells Ryan to get better and fix the attitude, they're pulling for him, before telling Brandon he'll wait for him in the hallway. The look he gives them is a knowing one. Ryan wonders if he really knows something or if he's just fucking with their heads. Ryan is surprisingly okay with either option.

Brandon doesn't make much of the goodbye, just promises that he'll see them both soon and giving them quick kisses. He stops halfway to the door before hurrying back. He grips Ryan's shoulder, kisses him hard and deep before leaving without another word. Ryan's head is spinning from the sudden move it. It's worth it. He beams at Jalynne, laying back with a satisfied sigh.

“See that? He totally loves me.”

“He's not the only one.”

His afternoon and night are spent in a series of tests with a revolving door of doctors, nurses and techs, culminating in being informed that they want another night of observation but that he'll be released to go home the next morning. His original doctor from the night before comes back, goes over his charts and makes small talk. Ryan has convinced Jalynne to go get a proper night's sleep in the hotel since they're driving to LA in the morning. He asks the doctor for the truth, what he faces if he plays again and he's injured again, about the long term effects of his injuries.

He doesn't like what he hears. He's read about the studies done on retired football players and high school athletes, the damage done by repetitive head injuries, even when the injuries are minor ones. Early onset dementia and the like. The doctor mentions Chris Benoit, which Ryan thinks is a terrifying and inappropriate example. He doesn't think the guy is trying to scare him, though. He is, he's scaring the shit out of Ryan, but he's just laying out facts, statistics and prior cases. Ryan isn't sure if he appreciates the honesty anymore or not.

Ryan doesn't sleep much that night, too busy thinking about the show and the consequences of another head injury. He knows there's been some slight personality changes. Sometimes he'll spend the entire night on the couch watching TV instead of sleeping because he can't shut his mind off. He finds himself at short patience with some people but he thinks that's just because stupid people give him a headache anyway. He doesn't get any more aggravated with Brandon than he ever has and he usually only gets aggravated with Jalynne when he knows she's right and he doesn't want to admit it. And that was true of him before the fight.

When Jalynne arrives in the morning, he knows he looks like shit but he avoids talking about it while he's being discharged. She lets him have his peace until they're on I-5 half an hour north of San Diego. She touches his shoulder, telling him to tell her what's wrong. He does, telling her what the doctor said and all of his fears. Like how he remembers being a kid and watching his great grandma slowly slip away and become an entirely different person. How afraid he is of that happening to him. He doesn't know what he's more afraid of, losing himself or losing the show.

"But are you afraid of losing us anymore?” Jalynne asks. She looks pleased when he shakes his head. She reaches out again and takes his hand this time, squeezing it. “Can I say something that you won't like because it's easy for me to say?”

“Shoot.”

“Don't worry about it.”

“Yeah, baby, you're right. I don't like that.”

“Don't care.” She answers breezily. “I stand by it. Look at it this way. Your season is already over. You've got months to train and recover. You won't do yourself any favors deciding your life is already over. We'll figure out where we're all living in the offseason. I'll send you and Brandon out at ridiculous hours for things I'm craving. We'll all lose out on sleep when the baby gets here and in February, _then_ you can decide if you're well and truly screwed.”

“About the baby...”

“You're helping, Theriot. No excuses.”

“You really want _me_ helping you raise your kid?”

“Yours aren't horribly scarred. This one will be just fine. You want this with us, don't you? To be with us? To be a family?”

“Like you wouldn't believe.”

“Then suck it up and quick panicking, princess. You're our family and we're yours and we will raise beautiful babies together. Deal with it.”

She leaves no further room for him to argue, just flashes him that impish grin that always drives him wild before cranking Some Nights up on the radio. Ryan closes his eyes, drops his head back and sings along.

**Author's Note:**

> The case studies involving former football players who experienced early onset dementia as well as studies of high school football player whose brains resembled those of alzheimer's patients are very real. Further investigation is being done into the consequences of repetitive brain injuries and how vastly different they can be from one case to another and the ways in which even minor concussions can cause major damage.
> 
> Chris Benoit was a pro wrestler who committed a double murder-suicide, murdering his wife and son before killing himself. He suffered multiple head injuries throughout his career and the coroner stated that his brain resembled that of an 85-year-old Alzheimer's patient. The true cause of his actions has never been conclusively determined but most people consider his brain trauma a contributing factor, if not maybe a main factor, in what happened.


End file.
